Symptoms of Cretinism

My boss had fit just now, cruelly berating - in front of everybody - some guy from utility over some trivial thing. I've never seen her like that; I guess it has something to do with the guy being from utility.

It really doesn't seem to matter that the stone age-slash-hunting gathering days are millions of years past; it all still boils down to who has the most power. It may have taken different shapes and forms throughout the years, but its essence remains the same; from "Give me your woman and your potato because I have bigger stick" to "If you don't have as much moolah (or connections) as I do, f*ck off."

As time passes and years find you, you'll also find many a man (or woman) who fancies you to be beneath him or her, and you shall always be dealt with according to your perceived station. Right and wrong or reason won't matter one whit; only power.
It seems that the conjured-up images of megalomaniacs who laugh diabolically and think themselve…

Its crunch time again - the first of many more to come this year - and I once again find myself crouched in front of my computer, updating progress and files and proofing pages.

Naturally all the normal people have gone home and eaten their dinners and gone to bed; I envy them.

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Gentleman Alone
by Pablo Neruda (Translated by Mike Topp)

The young maricones and the horny muchachas,
The big fat widows delirious from insomnia,
The young wives thirty hours' pregnant,
And the hoarse tomcats that cross my garden at night,
Like a collar of palpitating sexual oysters
Surround my solitary home,
Enemies of my soul,
Conspirators in pajamas
Who exchange deep kisses for passwords.
Radiant summer brings out the lovers
In melancholy regiments,
Fat and thin and happy and sad couples;
Under the elegant coconut palms, near the ocean and moon,
There is a continual life of pants and panties,
A hum from the fondling of silk stockings,
And women's breasts that glisten like eyes.
The salary man, a…

And just like that, it all ends.

The holidays draw to a close - too bad the crime rate that goes with it won't - and everything's back to normal. I once again have to force myself out of bed every morning to get to work on time, then trudge through morning and evening rush hour every day from Mondays to Fridays, and then I can't look forward to any more additional moolah in my payslip.

At least there won't be any more annoying Christmas songs (especially the ones from Wille Revillame) and no more annoying firecrackers.

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I have never been one for New Year's resolutions; I believe that if you want to change something, it's kinda lame to wait for the changing of a year to resolve to do it. I do hope for more good things though.

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Okay, back to work.